


Shelter

by Toomanyfandoms99



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Shelter, Castiel in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Cats, Dogs, Enochian, Fluff and Angst, Kittens, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural) Feels, Pet Shelter, Puppies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 17:49:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17451566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toomanyfandoms99/pseuds/Toomanyfandoms99
Summary: Castiel had gotten into a strange habit.Whenever Dean and Sam were on a case, Castiel would wander.  He would fly to random spots throughout the United States, visiting places he’d never been before.He had his own experiences.  He ate in diners with crazy themes, like one he found with cow decor.  He walked around small towns and big cities, taking it all in.  He took occasional pictures of his adventures too, transferring copies from his phone to a lagging bunker laptop neither of the Winchesters used.  He hid the pictures in an unmarked file and printed them for the bedroom that Dean didn’t know he used.While he did these things in secret, his weirdest habit was picking up strays.Not stray people.  Stray cats and dogs.





	Shelter

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was a labor of love. Enjoy!

Castiel had gotten into a strange habit.

Whenever Dean and Sam were on a case, Castiel would wander. He would fly to random spots throughout the United States, visiting places he’d never been before. 

He had his own experiences. He ate in diners with crazy themes, like one he found with cow decor. He walked around small towns and big cities, taking it all in. He took occasional pictures of his adventures too, transferring copies from his phone to a lagging bunker laptop neither of the Winchesters used. He hid the pictures in an unmarked file and printed them for the bedroom that Dean didn’t know he used.

While he did these things in secret, his weirdest habit was picking up strays.

Not stray people. Stray cats and dogs.

It all started when Castiel was walking in New York City while it was raining. He had seen it in a movie, and decided he wanted to experience this wonder for himself. The sun had set an hour ago, but the night sky held traces of purple that illuminated his path. Castiel let the rain drench his trench coat, uncaring of the weather’s effects.

The sound of whimpering drew Castiel’s attention.

Nestled between two apartment complexes was a whimpering cardboard box. Thankfully, the box was shaded from the rain. Castiel was glad for small miracles.

Castiel walked slowly towards the box. He stood over the open flaps, taking in the sight of two kittens and a puppy curled up together inside. He knelt down and made little shushing sounds, the kittens mewling and the puppy peering up at him. He grabbed both sides of the box and lifted it slowly into his arms.

He teleported away with the cardboard box nestled in his wings.

————

Castiel brought all the supplies he needed into existence with the snap of his fingers.

He settled his new charges into his bunker bedroom, gladly getting rid of that dreadful cardboard box.

————

Castiel got into the habit of naming them.

After his first rescue operation lead to the successful adoption of all three pets, he learned he was good at this.

The black-haired pug, who Castiel named Yor, — the Enochian word for ‘roar’ — went to a family of four in suburban Michigan. The twin tabby kittens, who Castiel called Yin and Yang, went to neighbors in the same Ohio apartment complex.

Castiel’s next rescue a month later was a golden retriever puppy. He kept Micaloz — Enochian for ‘light’ — the entire time Dean and Sam were on a two-week hunt in Texas. He walked Micaloz in the woods around the bunker. Played fetch with the excitable puppy. Let him sleep on his lap while he watched Netflix all night.

He gave Micaloz to a foster family in Maine.

Over the course of the next months, Castiel used the bunker as a shelter. Dozens of dogs and cats called it home for several days at a time. Castiel always had to move them when the Winchesters came back, though. He either took them to shelters and oversaw their adoption or flew them to a motel in Topeka — he had an agreement with the owner that he could have a room whenever he wanted.

He had no clue how Dean or Sam would react to their house being used as an animal rescue shelter when they were traveling. Castiel knew he couldn’t keep this up without a hitch, though. They would find out eventually.

————

They didn’t find out for almost a year. Well, a year since Castiel found that first cardboard box containing one puppy and two kittens.

Castiel had taken pictures of every pet that had passed through the bunker to help out the shelters he went to across the United States. They needed photo records of every pet that was adopted and brought in. 

Dean found Castiel’s lagging laptop open to a folder of said pictures.

“Cas,” Dean said, the laptop in his hands, Sam catching the pictures on the screen, “what’s this?”

Castiel replied nonchalantly, “the bunker is an animal shelter when you’re away.” He flipped the page of the lore book he was reading at the war room table. “Now you know.”

Dean’s expression melted into something softer. He met Sam’s puzzled gaze.

Sam asked Castiel with furrowed eyebrows, “why didn’t you tell us?”

Castiel flipped a page to the diagram he was looking for. “This is my house, too.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, “but why make the bunker a pet shelter?”

Castiel studied the diagram and the recipe to cast a shielding spell. That would be incredibly useful. He bookmarked it in his mind. “I found a cardboard box of them once,” he said. “Since then, I’ve been searching for abandoned animals everywhere. I figured I could help. Besides,” Castiel turned a page, “we have plenty of room.”

Dean and Sam stared at Castiel in silence for a long moment.

Castiel looked back. “What?”

Sam’s mouth formed into a small smile. He walked over and gave Castiel a friendly pat. “That’s great, Cas. Keep it up.”

“Does this mean I don’t have to hide them?”

Sam was clearly happy at the prospect. He looked at Dean, and Castiel felt his heart stop.

Dean’s eyes shined with so much affection for Castiel that he thought he was dreaming.

Dean glanced at his brother’s hopeful face and said, “I’m allergic to cats, but dogs are fine.”

Sam grinned like a kid. “Yes!”

Castiel smiled fondly at the Winchesters. He knew Sam loves dogs, and it was Dean that had an issue with pets.

That would change. Castiel would make it his mission.

————

Dean brought Castiel’s laptop to the dinner table later that day. “So,” he said, “did you name,” he motioned to the folder full of pet photos, “all of them?”

“Yes,” Castiel replied.

Dean clicked open a picture of a white pitbull. “This one looks cool. What’s this one’s name?”

“Enay,” Castiel replied. “Enochian for ‘lord.’”

Dean smiled softly. Castiel has never seen him so at peace. “I like that.” He chose a picture of a Persian cat. “What about this one?”

“Arroyo. I found him near a creek in Wyoming.”

“That’s the Spanish word for ‘ravine.’ Right.” Dean nodded and chose a picture of a young greyhound. “What about this one?”

“Micalzo. Enochian for ‘mighty’.”

Dean chuckled. The photo of the greyhound staring at the sky outside the bunker made it look mighty indeed. He chose a picture of a French bulldog. “This one?”

“Amour.”

Dean’s eyes shifted imperceptibly, but returned to their usual shine in less than a second. “French for love?”

“Yes. Because it’s a French b-”

“I gotcha.” Dean chuckled again.

Dean stopped his questioning, then, leaving Castiel with a lot to think about.

————

When Castiel descended the bunker stairs at the entrance with a cardboard box, Dean and Sam’s attention was fully on him.

Sam rocketed up and asked, “is it finally time?”

Dean watched eagerly as Sam and Castiel set down the cardboard box on the war room table. 

They peered over the flaps together.

Three border terriers crawled over each other, nipping each other playfully and letting out little yaps in place of barks.

“They look to be part of a litter,” Castiel said. “Recently weaned off of their mother. Whoever it was probably couldn’t accommodate all of them.” Castiel slowly reached into the box and lifted up the runt of the litter. Dean and Sam watched, mesmerized, as Castiel’s expression softened. The runt held its eyes open with considerable effort, taking in Castiel’s face. Castiel smiled genuinely and murmured, “hi, sweetheart. It’s alright. I’ll help you.” Castiel held the puppy close to his chest, its little head leaning against him gratefully. Castiel kissed the top of the puppy’s head and said, “I’m going to call you...Aoiveae. Enochian for ‘star.’”

Dean and Sam watched the gentle exchange, and were silent for a few beats.

Sam looked inside the box again and tore apart the two remaining terriers from fighting. He chuckled and said, “reminds me of us, Dean.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “How we used to be, maybe.”

“Choose one and name it,” Castiel encouraged, rocking his puppy to sleep in his arms like a baby.

Dean and Sam chose their puppies. Sam picked his terrier up with ease, encasing it in his large arms. He chuckled as the puppy sniffed his shirt and said, “he looks like a Duke to me.”

Dean snorted. “Lame, Sammy. My dog,” he deposited his terrier carefully on the war room table, “is named Harley.” He grinned as he ruffled the puppy’s scruffy fur. “Yeah. Definitely a Harley.”

Castiel rolled his eyes fondly. “It’s now time for your training.”

————

Sam aww’ed as he entered the bunker television room to see Dean and Harley watching a movie on the couch. “Looks like this was a nice idea, after all.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said with a wave. “This is nice, and all. Cas had a good idea.”

Sam smiled. “To be compassionate to less fortunate creatures, you mean?”

Dean kept his expression as blank as possible. “I guess. I just didn’t expect him to be...like this.”

Sam plopped in an armchair, Duke leaping into his lap like a meerkat and settling there. “More open towards the pets than people?”

“Right.” Dean’s eyebrows furrowed. “It makes sense, I guess. He must feel more comfortable with animals, since he’s got wings and all. I dunno.”

Sam decided to grab a metaphorical stick and poke brother bear. “You’ve been happier, lately. Since Cas told you about all this.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Any particular reason why?”

Sam was expecting Dean to say “I don’t swing that way, Sammy.” “Shut up, Sammy.” “I’m not into that, Sammy.”

What Sam did not expect was Dean to shrink into the couch cushions and avoid his gaze.

Silence really spoke volumes.

Instead of teasing his older brother, Sam said, “I’m proud of you.”

Dean ran a hand over Harley’s fur to calm himself while the dog slept soundly. He tentatively met Sam’s eyes, something raw exposed in them, his facade extinguished. “You knew?”

“Of course,” Sam replied, “and it’s okay. More than okay.” He pretended not to see Dean blinking away rising tears. “I’m assuming you’re working on what to say to Cas, right?”

Dean nodded numbly. “It’s daunting to imagine, and it really shouldn’t be. I’ve only known him a decade.” He laughed awkwardly. “It shouldn’t be this difficult.”

“It’s best to just say it. Get it out there.”

“Tell him I love him, out of the blue?” Dean huffed. “I dunno. What if he-”

“He’s not gonna reject you,” Sam said resolutely.

Dean’s eyes widened, and he shut off the television absentmindedly. The room was encapsulated in half-darkness, Harley perking up at the change. Dean left the couch and turned the lights on, trying to distract himself. “You act like you know that for a fact,” he said bitterly.

“Cas told me himself years ago,” Sam said.

Dean turned around, sitting on autopilot beside Sam and Harley again. “When?”

“After Purgatory,” Sam replied. “He’s long since accepted that you won’t reciprocate, so he’s given up all hope since your stint as a demon.”

Dean’s skin turned a noticeable shade paler. He forgot to breathe for a few beats. His exhale was shaky once he finally remembered to inhale oxygen. “I’m a terrible person.”

Sam shook his head profusely. “Don’t do that. It’s in the past.”

Dean clenched his jaw. “I’m still awful, sometimes.”

“True.”

Dean inhaled sharply and swatted his brother’s arm. “Bitch.”

“Jerk,” Sam countered. “It’ll be alright. This is gonna work.”

“How do you know?” Dean asked doubtfully.

“Because I do,” Sam said sagely.

————

It took several more puppies and adoptions for Dean to feel secure with his feelings.

With every smile and laugh and gentle expression Castiel sent to each puppy, the more Dean found himself smiling along. The more Dean found himself rendered breathless and fighting back flushed cheeks.

Castiel blossomed in the presence of pets. Dean no longer saw the stiff angel warrior that masked his emotions. Dean saw a man with an endlessly kind and strong heart. A true angel, the type he heard about in fairytales, that adored all of Earth’s creatures equally.

Castiel’s happiness was infectious. Dean was pretty sure Cas could ask him to lasso the moon and he would do it without complaint.

Dean needed to stop watching black and white movies.

But Cas liked them…

————

“Okay, okay.” Castiel laughed. “Okay. That’s enough.” He laughed more. “Calm down.”

Dean’s heart melted as he walked into his man-cave and saw the entire litter of beagles climbing atop Cas and licking his face. He raised up his smartphone and stood in front of the television, recording video. Dean chuckled silently for a few seconds as six beagles assaulted Castiel, making him laugh and protest weakly.

Dean let out an audible chuckle, Cas noticing him at last. “You could help,” he suggested, huffing out a laugh as one beagle successfully licked Cas’s jawline.

Those lucky dogs.

Dean pretended to think critically, then eventually shut off the video. He padded over to the new couch and squeezed into the available cushion space. “Alright, kids,” he said, pulling a beagle away from Castiel’s face, “enough messin’ with Cas.”

One by one, Dean pried the beagles gently away from Castiel, plopping them next to him instead. Sensing that the fun was over, the small puppies flopped atop Dean and laid around him in, well, a doggy pile. Dean chuckled and brushed each puppy’s head with his thumb, soothing them into a calmer state. “Hush now,” he whispered to the dogs. Dean glanced at the screen and saw that Castiel was watching a black and white film before he was assaulted by beagles.

Now was his chance.

And what better time to confess his feelings than during an afternoon covered in puppies?

“Thanks for coming to my rescue,” Castiel said. “I’m pretty sure I’m coated in dog drool.”

“At least it’s cute puppy drool. Not German Shepherd drool.”

Castiel chuckled at the memory of Dean being licked incessantly by a growing German Shepherd. “Send me that video.”

Dean went to reach in his pocket, but found that he was blocked by a sleeping puppy. “Maybe later.”

Cas snorted at the sight. “Thanks for letting me make the bunker an animal shelter.”

“This was a good idea, Cas.” Dean smiled. “I don’t feel as...lonely here, anymore.”

Castiel observed the sleeping beagles. “Puppies do heal, don’t they?”

“So does your smile,” Dean said.

He blushed firetruck red. That’s not how he wanted to start this conversation.

Instead of being creeped out, though, Castiel’s mouth quirked upwards. “I was sick of being sad, so I got an army of puppies.”

Dean chuckled. “I’m sorry if I...had something to do with that.”

“Oh.” Castiel exhaled. “That’s just life, isn’t it?”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “You’re watching too many of these,” Dean said, gesturing to the black and white movie playing softly in the background.

Castiel shrugged. “I like them.”

“They’re romantic, aren’t they?”

“Sure.”

“Do you like that kinda stuff?”

If this question made him uncomfortable, Castiel gave no indication. “It’s how I learn about humanity.”

This was the opening Dean had been waiting for. “A screen doesn’t tell you everything. Maybe we can,” Dean boldly rested his hand atop Castiel’s, “learn together.”

Castiel blinked and stared. Dean stared back unflinchingly, holding his stance. Castiel read him slowly and carefully, afraid of misinterpretation.

Castiel murmured, “I thought you never-”

“You’re wrong,” Dean said. “During these past few years, I’ve had little...zings.”

Cas prompted weakly, “zings?”

“This feeling. Like...times when I’d see you differently. Where I would be amazed by you, for no particular reason at all. But,” Dean turned over their hands, exposing Castiel’s palm, “seeing you take care of all these abandoned animals...it was so easy to fall in love with you, Cas. And I know that I’m horribly late,” Dean continued, “but if you want to do this, I’m all in. It would be an honor to give you what time I have left. So,” Dean asked, “do you still want to be with me?”

Castiel’s eyes contained a flurry of emotions. A tear fell down his cheek, but he didn’t seem to notice, or care. “I,” he blinked away another tear, “I buried my feelings for so long. I don’t know, Dean. I-I don’t know anymore.”

Dean said hopefully, “I’ll be here, when you know. Okay?”

Castiel smiled wobbly. “Okay.”

————

With Dean and Sam gone on a hunt, Castiel flew to his motel room in Topeka.

Since Dean was allergic to cats, kittens Castiel found were held inside the room. The owner was an old cat lady, so she allowed it, and even offered to cat-sit when Castiel visited the bunker.

With Castiel’s last bunker charge being adopted, an English mastiff that Sam named Winston, he had three black cats to care for in the motel room. He said hello to the owner and sat on the bed, which the kittens had made into their own nest. Upon seeing Castiel, they stared with wide yellow eyes and meowed happily, climbing around his lap. Castiel laid down on the bed and let two kittens flank his arms and one settle on his stomach.

“Hello, cuties,” Castiel murmured.

“Mrow,” the kitten on his stomach — who he named Limlal, Enochian for ‘treasure’ — said.

Castiel scratched behind Limlal’s ears. “You were all meant to go to a shelter today, but I’m going to keep you for a few days.”

Limlal’s tail swished.

Castiel smiled. “You wouldn’t happen to have advice on how to deal with Dean’s confession, would you?”

“I do.”

Castiel shot up, Limlal meowing in protest. The three kittens hissed at Rowena, who had materialized in a cloud of smoke.

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I sensed three troublesome little children,” Rowena said, the kittens observing her, sensing her powers. “And you had a question that needed answering. Limlal wanted you to have an answer.”

Limlal meowed in confirmation.

Castiel stared at the kitten, then at Rowena. “Okay. Go ahead.”

“As long as I’ve known you,” Rowena said, the bottom of her red dress swishing as she sat, “I’ve seen you push down your feelings for Dean Winchester. And I have seen the same behavior,” Rowena revealed, “on Dean’s side.”

Castiel concealed his surprise.

Rowena leaned forward and said, “you’ve both had a serious communication problem. It’s exhausting to watch, actually.” She shrugged. “But now that Dean finally told you, you feel conflicted. Yes?”

“Unsure,” Castiel corrected. “Though I don’t see how you could-”

“I’m centuries old, Castiel,” Rowena reminded him. “I know that’s not much time from your perspective, but,” she smirked, “you fell in love with Dean Winchester in no time at all. That goes to show you,” she crossed her legs and steepled her fingers, “how little time means, in the grand scheme of things. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Castiel’s eyes widened comically. He hated to admit it, but Rowena made perfect sense.

“You’re saying,” Castiel said, “that by pushing down my feelings, they were put in...a hibernation, of sorts. I need to wake them up somehow, and they will return as if no time has passed.”

Rowena snapped her manicured hand. “You see, Castiel? Sometimes a woman’s help is needed.”

“And a kitten,” Castiel murmured, meeting Limlal’s knowing gaze. “Thanks, dear.”

“Mrow,” Limlal said.

Castiel swiveled his head back to Rowena. “How do I wake them up?”

“Easy,” Rowena said, standing up again, “think of the moment you fell in love. It will all come flooding back.” She reached a hand out to Limlal, who lifted her head. Rowena patted the kitten’s head. “You’re a good girl.” 

Then, Rowena evaporated into thin air.

————

Dean was hoping he wouldn’t run into Castiel at the bunker.

But he never got so lucky.

Castiel took one look at Dean’s bleeding arm and the crimson stain soaking through his gray tee and said, “let’s go.”

Since Dean didn’t want to test Castiel, he followed him into his bedroom. Dean’s eyes widened as he crossed the threshold and saw decor throughout the room.

He didn’t think Castiel used his bedroom.

Dean sat on the mattress and observed framed photographs on the wall, his laptop open to a folder of random nature pictures, and various souvenirs strewn atop furniture. 

Cas was busier than Dean thought. He would have to ask about this sometime.

Castiel knelt in front of Dean, dabbing a wet washcloth on his exposed forearm. Dean clenched his jaw at the little stings of pain, but noted how delicate and gentle Cas was being.

Maybe he would be a tender lover. Not rough like Dean had expected.

But he was getting ahead of himself. It had been weeks, and Castiel was still working himself out. Dean was being as patient as possible.

Castiel unscrewed a bottle of alcohol. The scent stung Dean’s nostrils. “Ready?”

Dean gritted his teeth and nodded.

Castiel dabbed alcohol on Dean’s wound as carefully as he could. Dean inhaled sharply, but realized the pain could be far worse. He had gotten off easy.

As the pain lessened, Dean said, “no dogs, huh?”

“I was with kittens,” Cas said. “Rowena took one.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Our Rowena?”

“Yes.” Cas shrugged. “I decided I shouldn’t question it.”

“That’s probably best,” Dean agreed.

Castiel procured a needle and thread. “You’ll need stitches.”

Dean sighed. “Damn. Thought I wouldn’t.”

“I’ll be as quick as I can.” The soft look Cas sent Dean made his heartbeat increase exponentially. “Ready?”

Dean gritted his teeth again. “Go.”

Castiel went to work, stitching Dean’s forearm with startling precision. He watched Cas thread from side to side, measuring his inhales and exhales. 

The way those fingers moved, the concentration in his eyes…

Dean swallowed thickly. He had been getting these flashes more and more often.

Castiel cut the thread, pulling both sides together with a light tug. “Okay.” He stood up. “Be more careful next time.” 

To Dean’s surprise, Castiel set a hand on his shoulder, trailing his fingers upwards. They travelled lightly across Dean’s neck, his jawline, his cheek. Castiel rested his palm there, Dean taken aback by the intense emotions packed within a pair of cerulean irises. 

What Dean read in those eyes made him think that, maybe, just maybe, Cas would lean down and-

“Understand?” Castiel murmured.

Dean bobbed his head.

Castiel removed his warm touch, to Dean’s chagrin, and left the room.

Dean saw it as progress.

————

They existed in the empty spaces.

As the weeks passed, Dean caught Castiel’s look. The same look that he got when Cas stitched his wound. A soft look, one that had the beginnings of a smile in it, one that was dominated by inquisitive eyes, so blue and so bright and so captivating that Dean forgot to breathe.

Dean saw this signature look when he let his guard down, when he dared glance in Cas’s direction. Every time he saw it, Dean felt fortunate. Here he was, a monster hunter that gained the affections of a celestial being, a being as old as time, a being that towered over all others, a being that could smite dozens of monsters with a finger snap, and that being chose to love him, above all else.

Him!

And that, Dean thought, was pretty amazing.

————

“You two are slow as snails,” Sam remarked one evening to his brother.

Dean rolled his eyes and continued shelving lore books. “I’m being patient, like a good Padawan.”

Sam plopped on his favorite chair. “He’s gonna make a move, and soon.”

Dean whirled on his brother. “And how do you know that?”

“I feel it in the Force.”

Dean snorted. “Get outta here.”

Sam stuck out his tongue.

————

Dean thought Castiel’s ‘move’ would be something predictable. Like giving him a bouquet of flowers. Or asking him on a date. Or both of those things.

He didn’t think Cas’s ‘move’ would be to plop a poodle puppy on his lap, say “I love you,” and rush out of the room.

But honestly, Dean shouldn’t have been surprised. Despite adopting human qualities and mannerisms, Castiel was still a weird guy. Communication could be scary sometimes, especially when baring the full weight of one’s feelings.

This viewpoint was why Dean didn’t freak out or get angry at Cas’s ‘move.’ Instead, he kindly lifted the puppy from his lap, held it in his arms, and calmly searched for Castiel.

He found him in the bunker kitchen, frying up pan after pan of bacon. The Rottweiler — who Sam named Fluffy — and the Doberman Pinscher — who Castiel named Homtoh, Enochian for ‘triumph’ — were already there. They sniffed with their noses pointed upwards and their tongues lolling out of their mouths.

Dean’s mouth was watering, too, but he ignored that instinct. It was serious talk time.

Dean’s little tan poodle, who he named Penny, signified his arrival with a loud yip at the smell of bacon.

Castiel stiffened, and he turned around slowly. His cheeks were an adorable shade of pink as he said, “hello, Dean. How’s your morning?”

Dean set Penny on the floor, and observed her scatter across the tile. She settled beside Homtoh, taking a similar stance.

Dean stood up and said to Cas, “it’s going wonderful.” He beamed. “The man I’m in love with said he loves me. Only thing is,” Dean strode towards the stove, ignoring the three dogs at his feet, framing Castiel’s face in his hands, “I didn’t get to tell him I love him too.” Dean breathed, “and I didn’t get to do this.” Dean brought his lips forward, inhaling the scent of sugar and grease, his eyes fluttering shut. Castiel reciprocated after a beat of shock, the spatula clattering on the counter as his hands clutched Dean’s sides.

Fluffy’s roar-bark shattered the moment, Castiel and Dean pulling their lips apart. Fluffy stared at them far too happily than was necessary, panting in anticipation of the bacon frying on the stove.

Castiel chuckled, bringing their lips together lightly. “I hope Sam doesn’t do that.”

Dean smiled at Cas’s shining eyes and said, “he probably will. Let’s not talk about that.” Dean rested their foreheads together and took a breath. “I love you.”

“Yes. We’ve been over this.” Castiel kissed Dean again. “Let go of me before the bacon burns.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Dean sighed and did as he was asked. Castiel spun around and picked up his spatula. Dean leaned against the opposite counter and watched Castiel continue his task.

————

One Month Later…

 

“Wake up.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“But Cas,” Dean whined.

Castiel shifted closer to Dean in bed, encasing Dean in his arms. Their noses brushed. Cas’s breath ghosted Dean’s lips. “Get up.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Is fucking me into oblivion last night not enough for you?”

Castiel brushed their lips together. “Open your eyes.”

“It’s early.”

“It’s nine.”

Dean sighed. “Too tired.”

“Too bad.”

Dean exhaled through his nose. “I’ll open my eyes if you kiss me a whole lot.”

“Where?”

Dean growled. “You’re too much.”

“Your mind is filthy,” Castiel chided. “I meant do you want a kiss on,” he waited a beat, “your nose? Your forehead? Your cheeks? Which of those do you want?”

“None of the above. Is there a fourth option?”

“Perhaps,” Cas teased. “What is this fourth option you’ve thought of?”

Dean puckered his lips.

“A kiss on the mouth?”

Dean hummed. “I want all the mouth kisses.”

“Then you’ll open your eyes?”

“Yes,” Dean promised.

Castiel flushed their bodies against one another, a thin layer of sheets between them and nakedness. Their lips met, over and over and over again, intensifying and softening and heating up again. It went on and on for a long moment, Dean breaking apart from their embrace with a satisfied sigh.

True to his word, Dean’s eyes fluttered open, settling on electric irises and messy hair and swollen lips. In times like these, Dean was sure Castiel was a Greek god, meant to be worshipped at altars and carved on statues. 

And it was all for him!

Dean smiled easily. “Hey, babe.”

Before Castiel could say anything, several sets of paws and claws were audible from the hallway. They skidded across the wood panels, and burst into their bedroom. 

Panting and yapping was heard as Dean and Castiel were joined by a small pack of puppies.

Castiel laughed as they hopped on the bed and crawled around, sniffing him and Dean. “Hey, sweethearts!”

Dean fake grumbled. “Interrupted by the kids again.”

Castiel sat up on his pillow, a Dalmatian aptly named Spots by Dean and a cocker spaniel he named Achildao — Enochian for ‘diamond’ — greeting him happily. Meanwhile, a white terrier named Gertrude by Sam and a husky named Vovin — Enochian for ‘dragon’ — climbed atop Dean’s legs. He pet both of their heads as they scrambled for his attention.

They heard thundering footsteps grow near. “Guys?” Sam called out.

“We’re awake,” Castiel said.

“Don’t come in!” Dean exclaimed.

“Are you both,” Sam teased, “indecent?”

“Yes! Now go away!”

Sam laughed and walked away before he could shadow their door.

Dean huffed. “Okay. Moment ruined.” He tore off the sheets and slipped on the boxers he discarded the night before. 

Castiel did the same on his side, tossing on boxers and buttoning up a blue flannel. “I’ll start the bacon.” He put on a softer voice. “Come on, kids.” The dogs panted happily and hopped on the floor. 

As they scrambled to follow Cas, Dean stopped him at the door. He brought their foreheads together. “I love you.”

Castiel pressed their lips together quickly. “Love you too.”

With that, Castiel swished out of the bedroom with a trail of puppies lapping at his feet.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are appreciated!


End file.
